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Monday, April 5, 2010

Pennsylvania, c. 1955

Here's a photo of my first road trip across the nation. It's pretty fuzzy--just like the memories I have of the journey. There aren't many pictures to jog my memory either. Parents took fewer snapshots in the OLD DAYS. We camped from New Mexico to Pennsylvania where my mother's family lived. At home we had those metal motel chairs that were so cool on the back of your legs in summer, but it was the last time I was to see an Adirondack chair again for some time. I was so impressed with the green and the two-story houses with their peaked roofs and mysterious staircases. The infatuation has never quite left me. I still enjoy seeing little cottages with their charming colored trim and cheery gardens wherever I travel. And when I camp I often remember my turn tenting with my father in those days, listening to the breeze whistle through the flaps as I gazed at the fire before sleep. There was always the murmur of adult conversation just out of range for meaning, peppered with laughter, and now and then a guitar or a song, full of the sound of contentment.

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